Scorned
by Katt9966
Summary: Kim doesn't take rejection well, as Dutch finds out.
1. Default Chapter

Title: - Scorned.

Author: - Katt.

Rating: - R.

E-mail: - kattanon@hotmail.com

Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know.

Archive: - I'd be honoured, just let me know. Archived at the Shield Fan Fiction Archive.

I always thought the scene in "Cupid and Psycho" where Kim Kelner takes a look at Dutch's gun and then hangs his jacket up in the closet with her dead husband's clothes was a little creepy. Kim is definitely a "bunny-boiler" who doesn't take rejection well as Dutch finds out.

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Scorned – Chapter 1.

Claudette glanced across at her partner's desk and watched as he resolutely ignored his ringing cell phone. She narrowed her eyes slightly as he lowered his head even more and fiercely concentrated on the file in front of him.

"Aren't you going to get that?" She asked.

He didn't even look up at her when he replied,

"Nah, it's ok they can leave a message on the voice mail."

As he spoke she watched the tension in his body crank up a notch or two. Then the ringing stopped and Dutch's eyes nervously flicked to the now silent phone, and then looked up at her. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and Claudette could actually see the colour drain out of his face, as the phone began to ring again. She quirked a puzzled eyebrow at him and he finally snatched up the phone, switched it off, and jerking open a drawer threw it inside.

"Problems?" Claudette asked concern evident in her voice.

Dutch looked up at her and taking a deep breath he stood up saying,

"No…no problems just…it's nothing. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

Without waiting for an answer he escaped to the breakroom. Claudette watched him go her eyes studying his retreating back, the tense set of his shoulders. The way he reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck with his hand. Something was bothering her partner, had been for days. He seemed tired and jumpy; several times she'd caught him staring off into space, his thoughts miles away. He was also uncharacteristically bad tempered, snapping at other people over the slightest thing. He definitely wasn't himself, and she wasn't the only one who'd noticed. Danny and even Vic had both asked her what was wrong with him, and she had caught Aceveda watching him thoughtfully this morning. If Dutch carried on like this he would be getting a summons to the Captain's office to discuss his "attitude" and with the way Dutch had been behaving lately she wasn't sure how he'd react to that. Making up her mind that enough was enough she got up and followed her troubled partner into the breakroom.

She stood by the door and watched as Dutch went about making two cups of coffee. Although she knew he realised she was there he refused to look at her. Deciding that if he wasn't going to bring the subject up then she'd just have to be the one to do it, Claudette cleared her throat and said,

"So what's…"

However, she got no further before Dutch suddenly jumped in interrupting her,

"So do you think ballistics is going to be able to match the bullets from this morning to that grocery store robbery last week? You know I'm sure it's the same gang. The way both owners were shot in the head…"

His voice trailed off when, finally looking up at her, he saw the annoyed expression on Claudette's face. Trying, but failing, to sound innocent he asked,

"What?"

Claudette snorted and leaning forward took a steaming coffee cup from the counter in front of him.

"Don't try and change the subject son."

"What subject…I don't know what you mean." Dutch said, trying to sound indignant.

"I've told you before Dutch you'd think interviewing so many liars would make you a better one."

For a second Claudette thought Dutch was going to be foolish enough to try and argue with her, keep up the pretense of wounded innocence, but fortunately for him he saw sense. As she watched he glanced away from her and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"It's…it's nothing Claudette. It's personal."

"Well maybe it'll help if you talk to someone about it." She told him.

He quickly glanced up at her and then looked away again taking a sip of his coffee. He seemed to be considering what she'd said, maybe he was going to open up to her, confide in her. Either that or he was trying to buy himself a couple of seconds to come up with a way to wriggle out of telling her anything. Knowing Dutch as she did Claudette wasn't at all surprised when it turned out to be the latter supposition which was the correct one.

He leaned back against the counter, trying to look relaxed and yet somehow only managing to look even more tense, and took another sip of coffee before plastering an unconvincing smile on his face. Claudette noticed the smile didn't quite make it to his eyes and wasn't fooled in the least. He said,

"It's nothing Claudette…really not important at all."

Sighing Claudette realised Dutch really was determined to do this the hard way, she said,

"Look son I'm your partner, if you've got a problem you should be able to talk to me about it. You shouldn't keep things so bottled up all the time Dutch."

"I've already told you Claudette it's personal so…"

This time it was Claudette's turn to interrupt him.

"Well that may be so but whatever it is you've been bringing it into work with you. Look Dutch you've been distracted for a couple of days now, bad tempered, and don't think I'm the only one who's noticed either."

She immediately realised that this had been the wrong thing to say as she watched Dutch close down. His eyes flicked away from her to look out at the busy squad room and his mouth tightened into a thin line. The tense set to his body language increased and putting his coffee down he said in a quiet voice,

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise it was affecting my job performance. Don't worry I won't bring any…any…inconvenient emotional baggage into work with me again."

"I didn't mean it like that Dutch. I'm not criticizing you, I'm just worried…"

He abruptly interrupted her, his voice cold,

"Well you don't need to be Claudette. I'm perfectly fine, perfectly able to look after myself, sort out my own problems thanks…I really don't need any help, and I really don't need to talk about anything…so if you'll excuse me I've got work to do."

With that he brushed past her and returned to his desk. She watched as he sat down picking up the previously discarded file and scowled down at the crime scene photos in there.

Letting out an annoyed and frustrated breath Claudette thought _"Well I did a brilliant job of getting him to open up to me there…idiot!"_ However, she was determined that this wasn't the end of the matter. She'd leave it go for now, but decided that she'd be keeping an extra close eye on her partner for a while.


	2. Scorned Chapter 2

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Scorned – Chapter 2.

For the third time in fifteen minutes Claudette glanced across at Dutch's empty desk. It was now 7:45 a.m. and Dutch was three quarters of an hour late for work. Now if this had been Paul Mackenzie, her last partner, that would have been par for the course. She'd always joked with him that he'd be late for his own funeral, but this was Dutch. Dutch was never late, well except for that first day at The Barn when he'd been two hours late, but that had been due to a misunderstanding. Since that day she'd never known her partner to be even a couple of minutes late for work, in fact he was usually already there when she arrived. Glancing at her phone her fingers itched to pick it up and call his cell phone, just to check he was all right. However, then she thought back to the previous day when she'd tried to find out what was bothering him, and had done a spectacularly bad job of it. Dutch had been closed off, and silent, for the rest of their shift, barely acknowledging her "goodnight" when he'd left. She wasn't sure how he'd react if she called him now to ask if everything was all right. He'd probably accuse her of prying. Just then, much to her relief, the subject of her concerned thoughts came hurrying through the squad room, and flopped down heavily in his chair. 

Turning towards him Claudette found herself frowning as she took in his appearance. To say he looked flustered was an understatement. His usual neat and tidy appearance looking decidedly ruffled. His clothes were rumpled, his hair messy and judging by the dark circles under his eyes he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before. His face was pale, and now that she looked closely she was pretty sure his face was thinner, making her wonder if he'd been eating properly lately. Unable to stop herself she asked,

"Everything ok?"

He glanced at her, and wiping a hand over his face as he looked away he mumbled,

"Yeah…yeah fine just a little car trouble this morning, that's all."

Wanting to keep the conversation going, feeling it would be an improvement on yesterday's tense silences and mono-syllabic answers, Claudette said,

"Oh wouldn't start or something?"

Not meeting her eye, a sign he wasn't being entirely forthcoming, he replied,

"Or something."

Raising her eyebrow at his cryptic answer, and beginning to get a little tired of her partner's evasive attitude, she let some of her annoyance and frustration bled into her voice as she huffed,

"Oh fine Dutch keep it to yourself. I only asked because I was concerned, because I thought we were friends…Hmm seems I might have gotten that one wrong eh?"

With that Claudette got up and strode over to the break room to get herself and Dutch their usual morning cup of coffee. As she did so she winced slightly to herself at the harsh words and tone she'd used. Damn it, it was only because she was worried about him, couldn't the stubborn fool see that.

Angrily banging the cups together, and banging down the switch on the kettle she was startled when she heard Dutch's quiet voice coming from the doorway,

"I know you're only trying to help Claudette, I'm sorry. Yesterday, and just now, I didn't mean to shut you out. I know I behaved badly it's just…well I've been a bit tense lately."

Turning towards him, her tone of voice softened, she said,

"I've noticed son. Look if something's going on that's upsetting you perhaps you'd feel better if you shared it. That was all I meant yesterday. I didn't mean to sound like I was criticizing you. It's just…well something's bothering you and I want to help if I can."

She pushed one of the now full coffee cups towards him. She hoped that, unlike yesterday, when they'd stood in this very room, all be it their positions reversed, that he'd reach out and take the helping hand she was offering him. For a moment things seemed to be perched on a knife's edge, liable to go either way. Then to her relief Dutch sighed and gazing silently down at the dark, bitter liquid in his cup nodded,

"You're right something is going on. It's just…it's personal and a bit of a mess. I don't want to be a bother…" His voice petered out.

"You're my partner and my friend Dutch, you're not a bother ok." Claudette told him firmly.

As Dutch looked up questioningly at her she motioned for him to follow her. Leading the way they ended up in an empty interview room. While he sat down in a chair Claudette reached up and switched off the surveillance camera to ensure their conversation would remain private, just between the two of them. Sitting down across from Dutch Claudette quietly sipped her coffee, and waited for him to begin. She didn't have to wait for long,

"I was late in this morning because…uh…well last night I parked my car in my driveway and left it there instead of putting it away in the garage. I mean considering what's been going on I should have thought…I should have known better."

Here Dutch paused to take a drink of his coffee, and Claudette had to resist the urge to hurry him along. Finally continuing Dutch told her,

"My tyres were slashed…when I went out this morning I found my tyres slashed. I had to arrange for a garage to come and tow it to get fixed, and then I had to wait for a cab…that's why I was late."

Looking at him Claudette said,

"You know who did it."

It was a statement of fact, not a question.

Nodding Dutch said quietly,

"Yeah…yeah I've a pretty good idea."

Not wanting to push him, worried he might become defensive and clam up again, like he had the day before, Claudette waited for him to feel comfortable about continuing. However, the pieces began to fall into place in her mind, and she didn't like what she was seeing. This incident with his car, his unwillingness to answer his phone, his general stressed, jumpy and unhappy demeanour lately. Someone was obviously harassing him. She looked across at him, his body language communicating his misery loud and clear.

"Son…Dutch…who is it?"

Claudette was surprised at the flush of colour that crept up her partner's pale face. She was puzzled as he blushed in embarrassment before finally answering,

"Kim…it's Kim."

"What Kim as in your girlfriend Kim?" Claudette asked, confused.

Mutely Dutch nodded.

"But why…why would she…"

Claudette fell silent as she realised the answer to her own question.

"But I thought you two were getting along fine…I mean you seemed so happy."

"We were…at first. It's just…well the whole thing with her…I think it was a mistake. It was my fault I should have know better…I did know better but I still…Kim was still upset about her husband I knew that, but I was…I guess I was lonely so I jumped into a relationship with her that neither of us were ready for."

Dutch paused with a sigh, and gazed off into space as he continued,

"It was great at first…for a few months and then…well Kim just needed more than I could give her."

Here he snorted and turned to look at Claudette, a bitter half smile on his face,

"Wow that makes me sound like a selfish bastard doesn't it…maybe Kim's right about me after all."

Wanting to reassure him Claudette said,

"Come on Dutch sometimes two people get together and for some reason beyond their control the time just isn't right for them. It's no one's fault, it just is."

He smiled at her gratefully, at least this time the slight curve of his lips seemed genuine,

"I know, but I hurt her…I didn't mean to. It's just she started talking about us moving in together, and I was already having second thoughts about the whole thing. She wasn't over Kyle, her husband, I could see that…She still has all his clothes you know, hanging up in the closet. Even when we were together my jackets had to vie for space with his."

Claudette felt a chill go down her spine at that image, for some reason, she couldn't put her finger on, it really disturbed her. 

"Then of course there's my fucked up track record in relationships," Dutch continued. "I just found that after Lucy I haven't got anything left emotionally to give anyone. I thought it had been long enough since the divorce and all…all the other stuff." 

Here Dutch paused again and looked at Claudette,

"I never really told you about that…not the whole story. Then again if you're anything like the rest of The Barn I'm pretty sure Gannon filled you in on all the juicy details, it seems my complete humiliation was his favourite story."

Claudette couldn't help the flash of sympathy that crossed her face. Dutch saw it and nodded to himself,

"Yep I thought so." He said. "Anyway I couldn't give her what she wanted, she was…too…too…intense about everything. She always wanted all my attention, all the time. It felt stifling. It felt as if she was…suffocating me. So a month ago I told her I thought it would be best if we didn't see each other anymore. I told her it wasn't her, it was my fault, but um…she didn't take it very well."

"Slashing your tyres I'd say that wasn't taking it well all right son. Those phone calls you won't take are they her as well?" Claudette asked.

Miserably Dutch nodded,

"I know I'm being a coward but it's just that I can't seem to talk to her…to reason with her. She starts off calm and reasonable but when I disagree with her she gets…um…emotional…and a little…well she can be a little abusive."

Her concern growing at where this was all leading Claudette asked him,

"Have you filed a complaint against her. I mean if she's stalking you, threatening you…"

Dutch interrupted her,

"No! I mean its ok Claudette I can handle it there's no need to make things official. She's just a little upset right now…it'll all calm down soon enough."

"Didn't you report the damage to your tyres, that's criminal damage Dutch. You should have reported it."

Looking sheepish, because he knew she was right, Dutch tried to shrug it off,

"I know, I know Claudette but well…I feel bad about what happened between us I don't …I don't want to get her into trouble. Besides I'm only guessing it was Kim. I mean I don't have any proof or anything. For all I know it could've been a random act of vandalism. In fact I'm pretty sure that's what it was I'm just getting paranoid."

Claudette wasn't fooled for a moment at Dutch's attempt to backtrack. She wondered what else might have been going on that Dutch hadn't told her about,

"Is it just the phone calls and the car son? Has anything else been going on here…something you haven't told me?"

Claudette could see the near panic in Dutch's eyes as he decided he'd told her too much already.

"No, no that's all and like I said the car could have been anyone so…Look I feel better for sharing here Claudette, but you know we've got work to do."

Dutch stood up and moved towards the door. The sound of Claudette's voice stopped him,

"I think you should file a report Dutch, I really do."

Turning back to her he shook his head emphatically as he said,

"That's not a good idea Claudette. I don't think it's necessary and besides…how long would it be before it got out. How long before that juicy detail became public knowledge…I don't need to give Mackey and his cronies anymore ammunition thanks."

With that he opened the door and practically fled the room. Claudette watched him go and thoughtfully chewed her lower lip for a moment. If Dutch thought she was going to leave it there he was sorely mistaken.


	3. Scorned Chapter 3

Disclaimer: - I don't own any of the characters of The Shield, they all belong to Shawn Ryan and FX.

Scorned Chapter 3.

"Oh man, did you piss somebody off?" The cab driver asked, sounding amused.

"You could say that." Dutch wearily replied, having had a similar conversation with the tow truck guy that morning.

He handed over the fare and got out of the car.

This was the reason he'd turned down Claudette's offer of a ride home after work. There emblazoned across his garage door, in red spray paint, was written the word "Bastard". He'd found it there that morning when he'd come out and found his tyres slashed. A little detail he'd left out of the account he'd given to Claudette. No doubt who'd written it there of course, he recognised the handwriting. God, why couldn't Kim just let it go?

Unfortunately, arranging getting his car towed that morning had taken up enough of his time, making him late for work, so he hadn't had time to clean it off. Well no time like the present, he thought to himself as he unlocked his front door. There were three envelopes waiting for him on the other side of the door. None from Kim, he was relieved to see. Instead they were all short, sharp notes from his neighbours, who were all rather upset about the graffiti adorning his garage. He could see their point, but Jesus, did they think he'd crept out in the middle of the night and sprayed it up there himself. Sighing he went upstairs and quickly got changed into some old clothes. Then he spent the next hour with a bucket of bleach, and a wire brush ruining his garage door. Although he supposed the scratched up mess that was there now was an improvement upon Kim's little message. While he'd worked he'd felt the disapproving stares of his neighbours, peeking out at him from behind their curtains.

After he'd cleaned up he finally made himself a cup of coffee, and sitting at the bottom of the stairs, mentally prepared himself to listen to his answering machine messages. There were 27 messages on there, and all left that day. Considering how many there were on some days that was actually pretty good. He'd of liked to just wipe the tape, but you never know when there might be something important tucked away on there. So taking a deep, steadying breath he reached up, and touched the play button.

At first her voice was hesitant, contrite,

"Holland…um its me and I'm so sorry. I…ah I don't know why I…ah why I did that. I'm really sorry you know I don't mean to…It's just…I'll pay…for the repairs…I'm sorry."

By message six she'd begun to cry so hard he could barely make out her words over the sobbing.

However, from message seven onwards her mood began to change. Suddenly she was no longer sorry for what she'd done. Now it was entirely his fault, he'd brought it on himself because of what he'd done.

Message fourteen was when the foul language started,

"You bastard, you used me! Fucked me and used me, and then when you were tired of me you just fucking dumped me like a piece of shit! You prick! You motherfucker did you think I was just gonna let you get away with it, bastard!"

By message twenty her words were beginning to slur, and he guessed she begun to drink. Another reason he'd felt compelled to break things off between them, he'd been through enough with Lucy, and he couldn't go through it again. He'd barely survived the last time. If that made him a coward, then fine he was a coward, but he didn't care he just couldn't do it all over again.

The threats really began in earnest in message twenty-two.

"I'll make you pay you shit! Do you hear me Holland! I'm gonna fucking make you pay! You can't leave me…are you fucking someone else? You are…aren't you…fucking some little whore…some bitch you work with. Who is it…your partner, or that blond bitch you like so much…fucking whores…are you laughing at me, are you! Bastard I'll show you, I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

By the time he'd listened to all the messages Dutch felt dirty, like he needed a shower. He wearily stood up, and reached out to press the erase button, but then thought better of it. Instead he took out the tape and fetched a spare to put in there. He studied the used tape in his hand. Before he'd always simply erased the messages, but talking with Claudette earlier had made him wonder if she was right. Maybe he should consider reporting Kim's behaviour, maybe try and get a restraining order against her. If he wanted to do that he'd need evidence of her harassment. The answering machine tape would be perfect. Although he still felt guilty for the way he'd treated Kim, for starting a relationship with her in the first place, when he knew it was wrong, he was becoming worried about her behaviour. Things definitely seemed to be steadily escalating. The verbal abuse was one thing, even the damage to his car and garage, but the death threats had started a week ago and were starting to concern him. He was sure she didn't mean it, she was just mad and upset, but there again, in his job he'd seen people who'd been murdered by someone they they'd never thought meant it when they'd threatened them. He could even remember a case he'd worked on when he'd been at Sunset. A woman, who'd been stalked by her ex-boyfriend for six months after they'd split up, until he broke into her apartment, raped her and strangled her. Apparently if he couldn't have her then neither could anyone else. So he put the tape into the drawer of the hallway table, and was just about to go out into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich when the phone rang. He actually jumped at the first ring, and chided himself for being so jittery in his own home. The answer machine was off, and when he looked at the caller id display he immediately recognised Kim's cell phone number. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and after having spent the past forty minutes listening to her verbal abuse on the tape, he couldn't face the thought of picking up the phone, and having her scream obscenities at him in person. So he left it ringing, retreating into the kitchen to get something to eat, despite the fact he'd kinda lost his appetite. 


End file.
